


Achieving Perfection

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Gattaca (1997)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-02-07
Updated: 2005-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-25 05:47:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1634789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I got the better end of the deal. I only lent you my body - you lent me your dream. -- Jerome, "Gattaca"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Achieving Perfection

**Author's Note:**

> Written for oddcellist

 

 

Perfection isn't everything it was believed to be. It doesn't stop fate from happening; there's no gene for fate. And then there's the fine line between fate and coincidence - an event of circumstance meeting serendipity. I often wonder where this line lies and as soon as I'm positive I've found it, it moves again.

I met Jerome Morrow and my life - no _our life_ \- changed. We became both the same and completely the opposite all at once. Jerome and Vincent, Eugene and Jerome. Names didn't much matter, or they wouldn't have if his name, his identity hadn't been my key to success. My chance to reach my dreams; to truly reach for the stars.

We're both on a trip now - ones we shall never return from; or at least not in the same form as when we left. Assuming I live through the year and return to Gattaca, I will no longer be Vincent. Not that I've been him for quite some time, though I suppose as long as Eugene was around, I was afraid to fully let go of Vincent Freeman. Jerome Morrow will have only one form and that will be me. My identity will be mine and mine alone; I will no longer have to share.

I am Jerome Morrow. It's a mantra that I've been chanting for far too long, as I dare not forget and slip up, destroying all of our hard work. This charade I've been living has not easy to keep up, and I'm not sure it will be any easier when I return. Eugene made things easier and more difficult. I am Jerome Morrow and there is none other exactly like me.

Was it fate that he ended up in a wheelchair so that I might end up in a rocket?

Perhaps.

I can say for sure that it was fate that I met him. He was amazing. Special. We were both special really; perhaps it was our own unique traits that made each other even more special. I don't know that I would have survived this long were it not for him.

Relationships are important and when you're living a lie, it's not easy to find one. At least not a relationship where you can be fully honest with the other person. We often joked about Eugene paying for sex, but in the entire time I lived with him, he never spent a dime. He didn't need to.

If only Irene were aware of the fact that I was using her. I did enjoy sex with her and I enjoyed her company, but my heart was somewhere else. Well, Vincent's heart was.

Was it fate that I fell in love with the man I was to become?

Yes.

I, of course was scared shitless of this realization. However, when you're faith born, you have no control over these things, these proclivities. Jerome wasn't gay; his parents had _ensured_ that by going to their local geneticist. Not that homosexuality could be controlled as it didn't come down to a solitary gene or even several genes.

Why would a man need to look at another man when he is already perfect himself? Why would he let his eyes draw anywhere but to perfect women? They were all good looking, they were all intelligent, and no man had anything another man didn't. Besides, homosexuality was looked at as a sign of imperfection, so no one talked about it; everyone suppressed any urges that might have been there, any sign that they were less than perfect.

Imperfection was undesirable, but money talked. If Eugene, poor crippled Eugene, were to look for love, he would be hard pressed to find it in a woman. Aside from his life altering accident, he was perfect - and who wanted a cripple when they could have someone who was normal, if not perfect.

Eugene's only options were to pay... or me. Not that we ever spoke of "us", of what we were or what we were doing - they were just free orgasms. We clung to each other's imperfections in order to avoid our own. He did a lot more clinging than I did.

Jerome was entirely unhappy before I arrived. He was still unhappy after I came along, if his drinking was any indication of his misery. However, my triumphs as Jerome were our triumphs and we both celebrated victories.

He was always quick to remind me that he was the lucky one, that he got the better end of the deal. He lent me his body; I lent him my dreams. I would have to agree with him. Especially when he would lend his body to me in other ways than was first intended.

We never spoke during sex. We were just moans and grunts and hands and thrusts, denial and acceptance of things all at once. I always thought Eugene was beautiful, but he was even more so when he came. Splayed out before me on his bed, his legs hooked over my shoulders - he was so wonderful. Never mind that I had to position him like that, that I had to carry him to bed and that I had to do all the work - I didn't mind at all. Though he would only let me fuck him when he was drunk, but I could suck him off any time I wanted. He never returned the favor.

I would say I minded that, but I couldn't when Irene could and would do it for me. Sex with Irene could not compare to sex with Eugene. Each thrust punctuated with a thought of Eugene. It was easier and more enjoyable that way. I felt guilty about this, just as I felt guilty lying about who I was; I clung to her in order to escape yet another of my imperfections.

I always have and always will run from my life. They used to say that a child conceived in love has a greater chance of happiness. They don't say that anymore. I am much happier living Jerome's life than my own. I think I will be happiest, though, when I can join him again.

 


End file.
